


Hunger & its solutions

by sol_lune



Series: "I'll show you my teeth" [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anbu Hatake Kakashi, Anbu Yamato | Tenzou, Dai-nana-han | Team 7 Have a Different Sensei (Naruto), F/M, Feminist Themes, Gen, Haruno Sakura-centric, Multi, Other, Sexism, The Fall Of Uzushiogakure | Hidden Eddy Village, Uzushiogakure | Hidden Eddy Village, anbu stalker kakashi, and kakashi's fine ass, and recognition, gave sakura's dad a family backstory too, haruno women history, intrigued sakura and kakashi of each other, kakashi is a 17 year old prodigy, little killing machines, love is love is love, lusting after strength, pining but not, power hungry sakura, pretty girl sakura, sakura wants attention, tenzou-sensei, tsunade teaches sakura "things", yamato is an enabler to sakura's bloody habits, yamato-sensei
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:01:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26628718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sol_lune/pseuds/sol_lune
Summary: Sakura emerges into the world hungry and demanding.It becomes a running theme throughout her life.
Relationships: Dai-nana-han | Team 7 & Yamato | Tenzou, Haruno Sakura & Tsunade, Haruno Sakura & Yamanaka Ino, Haruno Sakura & Yamato | Tenzou, Haruno Sakura/Hatake Kakashi
Series: "I'll show you my teeth" [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2118030
Comments: 38
Kudos: 245
Collections: The weak are meat; the strong eat





	1. Growing Pains

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally going to be a one chapter prequel for "Satisfaction" but it grew into its own separate, standalone fic.
> 
> I was inspired to write this story after reading Millarca's "I’m sitting on the ventriloquist’s knee." Our stories aren't in any way connected or related, except for maybe the format or displaying sexism and classism (shinobis vs civilians), but the muse lit up with ideas because of that amazing story and I wanted to credit them for the inspiration given.

**0 - March 28th, 1:07 am**

Sakura emerges into the world hungry and demanding.

The birthing room seems to brighten as she wails and is placed in her father’s arms.

He is a slight man with red hair so pale it is pink hanging past his shoulders. The color stands out like the wispy bursts of light shining through the clouds during a sunrise. Her father sits near her mother's bedside and cradles her gently in the folds of his grey yukata. He marvels silently, utterly enamored, at her upturned face and scowling mouth.

The blanket she is bundled into is red, a gift from her grandmother who proclaimed it to be a strong color, and her face is quickly flushing to match the brilliant shade. Though it had been up to chance to determine who she would take after when it came to hair, he is still surprised to see slicked-down rosy tufts upon her small head. Her eyes are closed but the Haruno looks run strong and there is no question that they will be some variation of green. He strokes her puffy cheek with a single finger before handing her to her mother. 

"She already has so much spirit," he remarked to his wife, smiling softly at the sight of her and their child.

She gave a tired, yet delighted laugh and held their daughter close.

"Our Sakura, a pretty flower with an unexpected bite."

At the sound of her name, Sakura quiets and nuzzles past wheat-blonde strands to press into the warmth of her mother's chest and blindly gum at a nipple for milk. She was quite hungry.

\- - - | - - - | - - - | - - - | - - - | - - - | - - -

**1 - The love** **story**

Mother is the painting, violence-hating daughter of a warrior. Father is a young, aspiring merchant doing what none in his family have before. 

She (Mebuki, _bud_ ) had the strength to be kind in a cruel world and he (Kizashi, _sprout_ ) fought with words and wits, not fists.

Two people find their own way and meet in the middle of a desolate place. Their eyes lock even from a distance and when they are close enough to touch, they make a green garden flourish full of life. They name their daughter Sakura, _cherry blossom_ , who bloomed, like the sakura trees, at the end of March. A signifier of spring and life with flower pink hair and leafy green eyes, she is a warning from nature herself. _Beware, this one is poisonous._ It is a deadly mistake that few remember sakuras can be fatal.

* * *

**1.5 - A history lesson**

Father's ancestors were scribes in the Land of Whirlpools. Much of their family had been lost with the village's destruction. Their line only continued because a few members had left their origin land years ago to travel through the other nations and document their various findings. Grandfather had been on his way back home when Whirlpool fell. He was never the same after.

It is said that people from Whirlpool would go mad, madder than usual, if they were away for too long. The ocean is in their very soul and they always feel the call home. Within Father's side of the family, every so often that brine and salt blood would show up prominently as it did in him and her, resulting in what was dubbed "Whirlpool" hair and tempers. Neither Father or her had ever been to Whirlpool or seen its glory, but they both feel the Call.

It is a faint tug in comparison to Mother who held the draw of the sun and burned with all its heat. 

Mother descends from a long line of powerful women who have desire raging in their veins. Women carry and continue the family name. Grandmother loved to tell her the story of why and how they had earned their gift.

Ages ago, one brave, ambitious woman struck a deal with a mighty Kami. She had journeyed far and wide, sacrificing blood, sweat, and finally tears, until she reached the top of the highest mountain and gotten as close to the heavens as a mortal could. The Kami heard her distant cry and approached out of curiosity. When the Kami was before her, power wafting off of it, the woman did not tremble or hesitate and the Kami was impressed. The woman traded away the family's ability to have boys for the choice they call their Want, and that's why the Harunos only birth girls.

Grandmother would always laugh, wink to Sakura who would grin back, and say they got the better end of the deal. 

* * *

**2 - Matters of family**

Sakura inherits the Haruno eyes and singular drive that pushes them all to achieve greatness. Wants were both a decision and realization. Some know immediately but for others it takes time and a trigger to identify the Want wishing to spill free and be known.

One of her cousins had never been to the ocean, but she had longed for it since she could put the Want into words. Deep, blue, welcoming, wild, a cool embrace, another world was how she described it in a yearning voice, green eyes hazy and lost. She and her family had moved to the waterfront years ago. 

Her other cousins had declared their Wants from triggers. The oldest was twelve when she got a taste of government and wanted to become Daimayo and her youngest cousin was seven years old when she wanted to become a protector because someone had bullied her and she didn't want anyone else to go through that. 

Asagao ( _morning glory_ ), her older sister, discovered her Want at five when she ran away from home and spent a week in the forest. As soon as she was old enough, she left the village and only occasionally glanced back.

Sakura meets her sister for the first time when she is two. Asa is wonderful and fun and restless. She never stays. Asa drifts in and out of their lives, the sole constant being that she'll eventually return for a visit.

Once a Want was activated, the bearer would be relentless in their pursuit to obtain it.

Great-grandmother wanted to rule. Grandmother wanted to fight. Mother wanted love.

They all succeeded.

Everyone adores Mother and her parents are in love, utterly besotted and content, with a deep respect for one another. 

Grandmother is a samurai who transitioned from fighting with blades to fighting with words when she got older. She could still wield a sword but chooses to now spend her time striking political fear into anyone who irritates her in the Land of Iron.

Her great-grandmother became a renowned pirate queen, the waters were her domain. Her exploits drew the attention of a prince from Whirlpool and they started a fierce competition that she came out the winner of. He became a favorite lover of hers and she mothered a few children from him. Some of her bloodline still sails the sea, maintaining her legacy of seducing anyone who catches their fancy, but instead of piracy and pillaging, they fish and dive or provide tours and transport. 

She knows these stories by heart (and still wants to hear more), has met the characters that are relatives (and still wants to meet more), has been educated and taught from birth in the ways of her family (and still wants to learn more).

* * *

**3 - the Hunger**

Sakura is always hungry, but the gnawing ache is somewhere in her chest, not her stomach.

She wants to eat her fill of the world until she is gorged and paid in flesh and bone and there is nothing more.

She wants and wants and wants more.

She wonders what it would take to satisfy her in full, what the name her skin is buzzing about in search for could possibly be.

_Will anything ever be enough?_

* * *

**4 - Songbirds**

Haruno women, though they do not always go by that name, are unique in that they shape their own destinies. They do not rely on their family name and resources, they go forth and make their own will. In their single lifetime, they can build empires that will last for decades and bring others crumbling to their knees. Countless women with countless Wants and countless Victories. They love the chase and thrill, the settling satisfaction that they have caught and wrestled into submission their fulfillment.

Yet, everywhere she looked, women bowed their heads and kept their gazes fixed ahead. As if by basking in the light and staring up at the sky and stars, they would float away and never come back down. What little they dreamed of was kept hidden and never pursued. 

They are resigned to their fate. _**D** **on't they know they are better**_ than the men who have attached the shackle she sees around each ankle keeping them in place?

It reminds her of the songbirds in their little silver and golden cages she had stolen. There had been a terrible, defeated look in their shiny eyes. Their wings were clipped and it made her _angry_. She had gathered them up from the table in her arms, grabbed her mother's hand, and ran until they were near the forest. A rock easily broke their confining jewelry. 

Mother, calm and watchful, said, "Some of us aren't meant to fly."

Sakura, full of righteous fury, lifted her chin.

Then, the smallest bird, the youngest, had crept forward and leaped into the air. For a heart-stopping moment, the bird fell, plummeting, but with a chirp it righted itself and spread its bright wings. Sakura watched it fly away and felt something unfurl in her heart. Several had followed the first bird. The rest remained behind, trembling, afraid to be free.

She was trying to coax them out when their owners came and shut the little doors, frowning at Sakura and her mother. The disapproval deepens when Sakura shouts and screams that the birds don't belong to them. They soften when, not knowing the tears are for both the birds and herself, she realizes they aren't, won't, listen and begins to cry. They want her to apologize. She wants them to release the birds. Neither gets their way. 

When it is just her and Mother left in the clearing, Mother places a hand on her shoulder and said, "You cannot force freedom upon them, Sakura."

She looks down at the dented metal jewelry in her hands and throws it on the ground.

* * *

**4.5 - Lessons learned / Power**

She learned an important lesson that day.

Power determines the way of life. Those with power could do whatever they wanted and the weak were helpless birds in a cage, singing for their master's amusement, longing for the sky. 

Her nameless Want rises within her, wishing to spill free from her mouth. 

A shackle will never contain her. 

Still, they try, reaching to capture. 

When she:   
disagrees,  
talks too much,   
talks too loudly,  
glares and frowns,   
doesn’t mind her words,  
doesn’t mind her manners,  
hits a girl for upsetting her friend,  
shoves a boy for pulling on her hair,   
likes someone and doesn’t hide it,   
dislikes someone and doesn’t hide it,   
gets her clothing muddy from playing,  
does what she wants without regard,  
doesn’t want to do something,  
is hungry and eats like it,  
slumps at the table,  
raises her voice,  
refuses to share,  
wants to fight,  
doesn’t smile,  
she is told by everyone who thinks it’s their business- teachers, strangers, father’s side of the family -girls are supposed to be quiet, clean, and respectful.

A multitude of voices speak in one breath:

Don’t you know better (than to want)? Leave your dreams at the door.

The shackle creeps closer.

_Wear your hair like this, wear clothes like this, walk like this, sit like this, talk like this, speak up, stop talking, listen more, pay attention, too much, not like that, not enough, so emotional, you’re_ such _a pretty girl, what lovely hair, smile a bit more why don’t you? You don’t take anything seriously. Oh, he likes you! Show_ ** _respect_** _. Don’t run,_ _young girls_ _walk! Nobody likes a bossy girl._

They want to dull her sharp edges, file down her fangs, and seal her voice, and she doesn’t understand why anyone would want to

/b r e a k/

that which is wild and free. What pleasure is there to be had in such a conquest, such a hunt?

* * *

**5 - Never Enough (is the way of things)**

She is a girl. A pretty girl. She is a pretty girl and girls are supposed to know better. 

Boys are allowed to shout and run and fight and grunt instead of speaking with words. They are punished, but excused.

(do we ever grow up?)

Boys become men. Girls become wives and mothers.

Pretty girls become beautiful and silent and suffocate _beautifully_ and silently to death.

* * *

**5.5 - the complexities of girl**

Acting like a girl. Sounding like a girl. Hitting like a girl. Caring like a girl. Loving like a girl. 

Being _anything_ like a girl is considered shameful, an insult, because it means not good enough. Girl is contradictory in the conflicting way that it, or she, can be both overabundant and lacking. The main meaning, however, is crystal clear:

Weak.

**Don’t yOu kNow betteR?**

They don’t expect anything more from her. They don’t even bother to look. It makes her grit her teeth until her jaw aches. They pat her head and look in disappointment as she refuses to shrink herself to fit into their tiny, narrow expectations. She throws back her shoulders with a snarl and bares her teeth into her ugliest scowl because she knows now that ‘pretty girl’ is all they will ever see and she’ll be _damned_ if she doesn’t have her head held high.

Father said, "They will always underestimate you, use that. Make them regret it."

She holds those words close to her heart and makes it a promise and vow. She swears upon the marrow in her bones she will make them regret it. She will repay two-fold every mocking “little girl” and despising endearment of “sweet girl” that they replaced her name for and the dismissive way they said it. She will never be small.

She knows her history, has been taught it at her mother’s breast as a babe, then at her knee and tucked into bed with wide eyes eager for more truth. It is this she holds on to when they don’t want to hear her voice and she speaks regardless. Her throat glistens, her tongue is silver. _She gets what she wants._

Sakura dares to live loudly and so must be smothered into something controllable. The love they sing of in songs and tell in stories, she wants no part in it. She knows love. She won’t settle for some pale imitation. She won’t settle for _anything_.

* * *

**6 - Taste**

No one is truly free or true to themselves, but a flicker of her Want sparks as she thinks this could be as close as one could get to it. She watches with a tilted head as the boys pounded each other to the ground at the park until knuckles split and faces snarled in desperation-anger-hate-dismay-joy. The other girls froze, shocked, at the violence. Sakura leaned forward intent with her hands clasped in front of her. *

She wanted that untouchable feeling that fighting seemed to bring the boys. The way even pain didn’t hurt. The power to do what she wants, be who she wants. She wanted to lose herself freely. She wanted to ruin the pretty dress her mother had gotten her and show off her injuries, her bruises, her defiant eyes, her bloody teeth and bloodier mouth. She pushes her sleeves up and steps forward. 

(It will never be enough.)

* * *

**7 - Spring blooming**

Sakura is born with a ravenous hunger in her heart, yet it was only in the glorious, heady moment of shattering a cheekbone beneath her curled fist that she claimed her Want.

Her blood sang and something within her clicked into place. The beast roared and rattled the bones of her rib-cage.

She smiled when someone yanked her hair and landed a punch on her pretty face that sent her reeling backward. She smiled when the adults came to intervene, running to stop the fight now that a little girl had gotten involved. She smiled when they have to pull her off of the boy and he remains on the ground staring up at her with wide eyes, recognizing her as the dominant creature. **

Her Want shakes and her hunger is the closest to being sated it has ever been. She practically skips home, tights ripped and the skin of her knees and knuckles torn.

Mother turns white when she sees her, then ushers her into the bathroom to wash away the blood she has earned with a blank face and steady fingers. When the last of it has been wiped away, Mother grasps Sakura’s chin and stares deeply into her eyes, searchingly, and seems to find it for her eyes warm and she presses a kiss to her forehead. 

Sakura looks up at her beautiful mother, who taught her how to love and be loved, and smiles widely, uncaring for the way it rips her lip back open. 

The shackle is lying, mangled, at her feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This idea has been in the works for MONTHS.  
> /  
> a/n note that I had to size down bc it got way too long:
> 
> As you can see, we have both misogyny and misandry going on here. The Harunos, unlike pretty much every other woman on this Earth and the naruto-verse, have never had to rely on a man or be subjected to a man's force/power over them in a patriarchal family, marriage, or relationship. This means two main things that have ripple, or full-on wave effects. 
> 
> One, they have never thought that men are superior to them or that they should be inherently submissive to them. 
> 
> Two, though they consider females to be superior, the Harunos don't actually know how many other women's lives are. 
> 
> Just because the Harunos are women and powerful, does not mean they will act morally better than the millions of powerful men that have existed currently and throughout history. Women are not going to be portrayed as saints or angels here. The Harunos will have a different perspective from those millions of powerful men because they are women and have had different experiences in the world then men, but they are flawed people with power.
> 
> end a/n note.  
> /  
> * Sakura really _isn't_ like other girls lololol
> 
> ** I only realized now, as I'm writing this note, that she is becoming stylized a lot like Hibari Kyoya from Katekyo Hitman Reborn in terms of animalistic behavior. Love it.
> 
> Fun fact: Cherry blossoms actually are toxic in large doses.
> 
> xxx  
> Please be respectful and don't post or translate my work as your own. Go to my profile for more details and information on ✨writing updates✨


	2. (Poison) Flowerbuds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sakura & shinobi business + academy days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all the love and comments on the first chapter ❤
> 
> i had to struggle with this one, but am proud to present my first update of 2021!  
> /

**In (7) between (8) - Planting the seed**

She is seven, almost eight, when she sees true violence for the first time. Her heart skips a beat, then picks up its pace into a full-out sprint, even though she isn’t moving. The noises- _slicing slippery slick, garbled gasp_ -in the alleyway putter out as the woman dies.

Sakura, a warm flush creeping high on her face, is frozen as some buried instinct surfaces to make her tremble with deliberate restraint. She breathes slowly, inhaling a sharp copper scent that makes her gums tingle, and continues to watch the hunters from the entrance. _In._ They stand with the loose-limbed stance of awareness, relaxed in their capability. _Out._ Arrogant, they ignore her and she narrows her eyes-

“You’re a civvie kid,” a husky voice said, abruptly. “Run on home now.” 

As if to punctuate the statement, the lean figure bends to pull a blood-smeared blade out of the woman’s chest in a smooth, squelching motion.

_In._ Sakura gasps: lungs expanding like petals are bursting from her, fists clenching at her side, grasping for something (flower stems, Mother’s wrist, the boy’s throat?) as her dilated eyes track the movement with fevered interest before snapping back to the obscured face. _Out._ Registering the brush-off, she reflexively juts her chin up and steps forward into the shadows (it's easy, so easy, they envelop her, _welcoming_ , clinging to the dips and divots of her features and clothing- ).

“Who are you?” She asked, a touch too loud for the quiet.

The darkness contorts and shifts.

_What are you?_ She meant, wondered; they heard.

They send her a contemplative, dissecting look, lingering on the bandages wrapped around her knuckles before she, still unable to distinguish the features of their face, feels the tangible change in the particles and molecules around them as they smile, a cruel twist of lips. _In._ They understand, she realizes. _Out._

The unspoken question is answered by cold, savage eyes playing at humanity. _Predator_ , they reply. 

(But she already knew that.)

Like knows like and just as she knows them, **_they_** **know** **_her_**. Their partner turns to survey her as well.

“You’ve got guts, kid.” 

She almost tilts her head back and slides her eyes close to bask at the statement. _In._ Almost. _Out._ Her Want forces her eyes wide and surges, clawing at the bone-bars lining the prison-cage of her chest at the scalding feeling of acknowledgement, desperate for more.

A raspy chuckle sends a shiver of anticipation down her spine. 

“Better protect them or you’ll end up like this one,” they said with dark mirth, nodding to the dead woman whose insides have spilled onto the ground.

She follows the gaze, it’s a pretty sight, pretty like Sakura after a messy fight, pretty like raw, ugly things. Wind-current fingers trail through Sakura’s blush-stained, shoulder-length hair and she doesn’t blink, but then the body is gone and the alleyway is empty with not even a bloodstain left behind. 

_In._ She moves as if to take a step closer anyway, but after a moment of internal struggling turned external in the form of concentrated breaths meant to control her impulses, looks back to the light and leaves for home with a bounce to her step. _Out._

The predators are gone now, but not for long. She grins with feral, bared teeth and ignores how the other children pale and scurry to cross the street when they see her.

* * *

**Number [8] Infinity - Games & their rewards (promises)**

Seven days after her eighth birthday, Sakura paces restlessly outside, trampling the wildflowers that grow in the park with a scowl heavy on her face. She walks, stomps, in wide circles like a wolf trapping its prey. A playful shriek from two girls tossing a ball back and forth sends the small birds nestling among the brush upward in startled flight. She pauses as she always does when there are birds nearby and watches them fly off, scowl reducing to a slight frown of pinched brows and flattened lips.

Two months. It had been two months since she had last seen the predators.

All attempts to find them were unsuccessful. She had lingered in alleyways, paused while walking by the shady dwellings on the other side of the village, even pondered conversing with some of the seedier individuals (ultimately deciding against it), but to no avail. They didn't want to be found and since they were stronger than her ( _tch_ ), any future appearances would be reliant on their will, not hers. Kami, that realization chafed something fierce. Sakura recognized the truth in it, she did, but refused to accept it.

She was stubborn and entirely too prideful for her own good sometimes, as Mother would say. This could very well be one of those times, but she couldn't _not_ try, not when she had witnessed one of her kind- though there wasn't anyone quite like her, of that she was certain -before her in the flesh, carving _into_ flesh. If they were anything like her, they would be back, but there was no telling how long it would take for the curiosity to provoke action from them.

Sakura never did well with waiting.

She preferred action. After the encounter with the predators, she had immediately informed her parents of her Want's reaction and upon receiving the following description list; dark, masked, shadow, blade; they had given her a name: ANBU. 

She knows who and what shinobi are, but beyond the sheen of concealed weapons, she hadn’t been all too interested. Some were powerful, yes, but nothing worth pursuing. 

The predators- ANBU -however, were very much worthy of her full attention. She gives proper chase, hunting down information in libraries like she was pouncing on rabbits and the guts lay out onto the grass like ribbons. Statements like, “mysterious, elite force,” and rumors of being the “the best of the best” can be read along the gleaming surfaces.

The next day, she finds a shiny kunai tucked under her pillow. She strokes along the side of the blade and stares, utterly enamored. _Haruno Sakura was going to become the biggest, baddest predator around._ She clenches her hand into a fist around the razor-edge to seal the promise in blood. Blades always looked prettier after they’d been used.

Standing motionless in the field, Sakura pulls the kunai from the strap Mother had Grandmother send over and admires the weapon again. Soon, she will be attending Konoha’s Shinobi Academy and be that much closer to the fulfillment of her Want. 

She just had to wait.

* * *

**Eight & Past the Gate - It’s in the blood**

Mother didn’t like shinobi.

She didn’t like violence and professions like warrior, samurai, _soldier_ meant a fight was imminent. Inevitable as the split between mother and daughter when one wields the sword and the other, a paintbrush. Grandmother and Mother’s relationship was strained, kept intact with the stretched thread of love and bound by words of duty and family. They distanced themselves, maintained contact, but only through letters and gifts.

Sometimes, love isn’t enough or it’s too much or it’s just the right amount but everyone hurts anyway and stitches unravel- like the fraying edges and picked-at holes in her scuffed pants, or that one time she had to pluck out every single knot in the fabric of her dress because the line was crooked -so they can patch themselves up.

People can’t do that with each other. They can’t pull at what’s uneven and paint over mistakes. Wrongs can be righted, but the damage remains.

Grandmother placed her Want above Mother and Mother did the same. 

In Wants- conflicting as they are -alone do they have an understanding. Haruno women are raised to value their Wants. It is the one thing they truly respect. Your Want is everything, a gift from the gods themselves encompassing all that you are and all that you will be. 

Mother’s destiny was always meant to be different from her own mother’s. She ran away but Grandmother had already been expecting it for months and left the door unlocked. Mother got her Want, a life of peace and love, but with it came a travelling husband; her firstborn, Asa, following (without warning) in her footsteps; and Sakura, her youngest, receiving all the blood-lust that skipped over her from Grandmother. 

History repeats itself like a bird performing the same mating call each season. 

Asa had left long before Sakura was born. In their home, there is an empty space that can only be filled by her. When Mother cries, Sakura knows it is because of one person only. No one else, not Grandmother or Father, nobody, makes Mother cry like Asa does.

It is in quiet moments when Father is gone- he is like Sakura’s ever-wandering sister in that regard, though there is no shared blood between them -out on the road to trade, and Mother pulls Sakura close into her lap when the night gets cold. Sakura can tell Mother is thinking of all the people so far from her and doesn’t say a word when Mother strokes her hair. 

After Sakura told her parents she wanted to join ANBU (patience, wait, just wait, _smile_ , shinobi first, needs to be done, then ANBU and its _predators_ \- ), Mother did not cry. 

Instead, she nodded. There is no need to tilt Sakura’s face up to assess her sincerity this time. Standing smoothly, she went to her studio, the room that had a large window and the best lighting, and filled three canvases with vicious splatters of _red_ before destroying them with angered screams and curses. Muffled through the door and walls, Sakura remains seated on the floor and turns to her father.

“A shinobi,” he repeated evenly.

“ANBU.”

He looks at her seriously and then throws his head back to laugh, sounding delighted and proud and loving and as certain as she is. “Aiming high! Of course, only the highest quality for you.” 

She, not for the first time, reflected with pride on her mother’s taste in partners, pleased that _her_ father was the rare exception to foolish males. Haruno women attracted and accepted the best, but Father was clearly superior even to others of his kind. 

He promises to bring her back a suitable gift from his travels and she smiles because Father also has excellent taste.

Father leaves and Mother continues to paint with uncharacteristic violence. Five scenes of raging oceans and fire-lit green forests join the demolished ones in a corner, until eventually a serene cherry blossom tree is painstakingly crafted and hung on the wall. 

Mother didn’t like her decision, but she was a Haruno and would not get in Sakura’s way. 

* * *

**Years 8 - 12: The Academy**

She's constantly hungry nowadays. It’s an ache in her bones, a yearning in her soul, the way her tongue will twitch and teeth will grind. Fighting is no longer a release since she can easily best any of the civilian kids and non-sanctioned fights on Academy grounds are Not Allowed. ( _Boring_ , she thinks and feels it resonate in her chest.)

Sakura is bored and that’s never good for anybody.

The Academy is disappointing in various ways. There are too many pleasantries, too much _talking_. Who cares about introductions or getting along? Sakura is going to be the best and everyone else can do whatever they want as long as they don’t try to stop her. 

The teachers drone praises for the Village, they talk about shinobi sacrifice as if it is hero work. Sakura doesn’t want to be a _hero_ , she wants blood beneath her fingernails and to plant her fist into someone’s chest, cracking open the shell lined with ribs to pull the soft, gooey parts out. (She wants to fly like a bird, hunt and kill like one too.)

Her classmates have foolish ideas, and ramble about them without saying anything of worth. _Boring_. The boys are dumb and boorish, useful for sheer number and kunai fodder, as expected. The girls are better, if only slightly, because they have potential to be more. 

Days pass before they can even touch any weapons. Most of them don’t know how to handle a kunai or shuriken properly, much less actually fight.

It’s all so _dull_.

This was supposed to be where she could finally stop waiting.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Their class spends an hour meditating each day and Sakura fidgets in the seiza position with a glower, glaring at her classmates. _Boring_ \- 

“Sasuke-kun! Wow! You’re so talented, of course~ you would get it quickly!” 

Sakura rears around to see Uchiha with a leaf stuck to his forehead. Several girls and boys that she vaguely recognizes as fellow civilian-born crowd around the spiky-haired boy. He blushes and Sakura’s scowl darkens.

Huffing, she turns back around, slapping her leaf to her forehead and snagging another to press to her chest, near her heart. If that _boy_ can do it, then it must be easy. Focusing on her chakra, she scrunches her eyes closed and starts to breathe deeper as she gains slow awareness of her chakra. It moves like water in rolling motions throughout her body. She coaxes a larger wave together and separates it, directing the halves to creep to where the leaves are located. 

The exact moment her chakra “catches,” she feels it and hears a _click_ in her mind as if locking the leaves into place. Blinking, her eyes adjust to the sudden light to see a small group (larger than the Uchiha's) has now formed around her. She touches the leaves at both points with her fingertips and one of the boys, blonde and blue-eyed, _loud_ Uzumaki Naruto, bounces, spreading dirt into his bare knees, and exclaims, “That’s so cool! Sakura-chan has two!” 

A smile slides onto her face, the boy goes red like a bad sunburn, and twists to toss Uchiha a smug look. He stares at her with some of that stupid pink still tinted on his cheeks. She sneers and he goes wide-eyed.

As if a boy could provide a challenge for _her_. Ridiculous, but at least in that moment, she hadn’t been bored anymore.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Kunoichi classes are thrice a week.

It is easily the best part of Sakura’s time at the Academy, only partially because Yamanaka Ino is there as well. 

The girl looks at those around her with barely hidden disdain. She plays with their classmates like they are dolls- doesn't need puppet strings to make them dance to her tune -watching them with sharp, wide blue-moon eyes and speaking silky words that are surprisingly effective given their young age. 

Sakura recognizes a hunger in the eye not hidden behind blonde bangs. Not quite the same as those in her family, it’s a different kind, but still intense and makes her stomach flutter like her first fight.

The teacher compliments Yamanaka for her tasteful flower arrangements and tea-pouring skills. She hands the girls- Sakura makes exquisite stitches and pretends it's skin she's sewing together -long, sharp needles and sends them off to advanced classes that take place in the courtyard of the Academy building.

The class that they attend starts with a skirmish breaking out. The teachers watch the display coolly as a girl with her hair in buns leaps over their heads, flinging blunted weapons at people. A smile curls on Sakura’s face. The Hyuga, a timid thing, had also been moved up with them. She was steady, nervous, but not scared, and Yamanaka, of course, looked icy and unbothered. The smile grows.

When it is time for her to fight, she has her opponent flat on their back with the sharp edge of the kunai pressed like a kiss against their throat in seconds. She looks down, directly into wide blue-moon eyes and then her vision goes black and when she blinks, wondering when she'd closed her eyes, she's the one on her back.

It's still for a moment, Sakura is disbelieving. _how?_ **_what?_ **

Yamanaka doesn't gloat. She wants to, Sakura can see it, but then those eyes sharpen (recognize) and she holds her tongue- or maybe it's just because Sakura surges up like the ocean about to crest into a storm, like a wild, starving animal, snarling with an open mouth and-

sinks her teeth sharply into the tip of her pink tongue.

The girl's eyes widen and she makes a noise in her throat because Sakura is biting and pulling and suffocating, trying to drown her as she flips them over, discarding kunais and weapons, reaching with her bare hands for Yamanaka's slim throat. 

There's a stinging sensation on her bottom lip as she is yanked off of the blonde girl. Yamanaka had bitten her back.

The girl's face is a bloody mess. Her clothing is rumpled and, for once, not pristine. Her blue-moon eyes are hungry as she raises a white hand to her red, river-running lips and meets blazing green.

Sakura doesn't bother wiping her own mouth, savoring the taste of a fight in a tight swallow of clenching throat muscles.

The tedious classes are more tolerable after that.

* * *

**Years 8 - 12: Caution, thy name is (not) Sakura**

The Yamanaka clan delivers an invitation for tea after the incident. Sakura is not worried, but Mother smiles and she knows it would have been fine regardless.

Sakura wants to see Yamanaka again, wants to see and show off the bruises they put on one another, but Mother goes alone and sends her to the Land of Iron. 

Grandmother chuckles at her bruised lip and roughly presses a calloused thumb into the scab until it opens again in a tearing motion that makes Sakura smile instead of wince. She spends a full week fighting in brutal spars with Grandmother's cubs and dodging swings from her decorative cane. On her last day, Grandmother threads a weathered hand through Sakura's candy-burnished hair and yanks her head back to bare her throat. Sakura gives an exhausted, half-hearted growl.

"Someone is going to put you down if you don’t get more aware, girl."

Grandmother tosses her back to the ground, a puff of dust swirls up, and walks off. One of Grandmother's little cubs snickers. Sakura crawls back to her room and dreams of different ways to cut mangled Achilles's tendons.

**.**

**.**

**.**

When Sakura returns with more bruises than clear skin and a reduced hunger, Mother trims her hair to the length Sakura prefers with a gentle hand (as if in apology). Mother dislikes violence, but most times, it is the only way to get through to a Haruno. Resentful as she is about the reminder of her current place, it was necessary if she wants to achieve her Want. Sakura understands, is grateful even, for the release and challenge. 

While she was gone, Mother thoroughly charmed the Yamanakas. They beg Mother to join dinners and send gifts of desserts and trinkets. The altercation between the Yamanaka heiress and her is ignored in favor of having Mother's attention. It is a heady thing, Sakura knows, to have Mother's full focus laid solely on you.

Still, Mother kisses her forehead and hands her an extra bento before school.

The teachers watch her interactions around Yamanaka carefully. During lunch, Sakura stares directly into blue-moon eyes and does not apologize.

She gives a slow dip of her chin, the most she will ever bow, and does not look away. Sakura does not care for niceties, but Yamanaka is part of a clan family and does.

"Call me Sakura."

**.**

**.**

**.**

A light weight, seemingly circular in shape is placed onto her head. Sakura allows it and tilts her face up curiously. The sun warms Ino: pale hair becomes golden and eyes are blue as the sky instead of ice chips.

She has a cluster of flowers in her hand.

Ino takes a seat next to Sakura and starts explaining the flower meanings and properties. Sakura listens with dangerously half-lidded eyes. She waits until Ino leaves to take the flower crown off. There are needles and small tacks hidden within bright petals and fresh leaves threaded by a crimson ribbon.

She puts it back on and wears the crown home. The next day, Sakura's hands are red and sensitive to touch. Ino smirks at her and Sakura lunges for her throat again during training. She leaves lilac bruises on Ino's neck. Ino slips poison into her steaming tea. Sakura tries to strangle her with a length of purple ribbon under the guise of helping tie back her long hair.

It becomes a game, a rivalry of sorts.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Ino is beautiful. It's not a compliment, though it could be taken as one, but a factual statement. She is pretty, very pretty. Sakura is also pretty, very pretty. It means nothing.

It means everything.

The shinobi-born children know better. They keep quiet, but the civilian boys and girls (even the ones who know what Sakura can do, has done) try to compare them, as if looks were the competition they are engaging in, as if Sakura didn't train until her knuckles bled to improve and Ino didn't practice how to hide a flinch, to tuck away her fear and turn it to stone, to **_bite back_ ** when bitten. It means nothing.

It means everything.

Ino makes them sob, tenderly breaks and cruelly discards the pieces. Sakura makes them scream, carelessly smashes and spitefully spits on the remains.

_Beautiful_.

Things are different after that. Ino wears the purple ribbon loose around her throat. Sakura puts the red ribbon around her wrist. It means nothing.

It means everything.

* * *

**Years 8 - 12: Old habits & new developments**

“Sakura-chan, we have a guest.”

She slunk into the receiving room and nods in greeting to the woman who was one of Mother’s favorites. With that done, she sauntered out of the house, not interested in watching Mother's version of hunting take place. 

She goes to the field and listens to the birds. They tell her stories and she can see the places they've been if she tries hard enough. Sakura has always put her everything into what she considers important.

It's why she spends hours growing her chakra, stretching it bit by bit, further and larger each time. Her chakra reserves are lacking, so she opens points on her body and pushes herself into exhaustion and unconsciousness because what she has currently is _unacceptable_. It is not enough. Not enough for her Want, not enough for her.

Control would have been easier to hone- it's about working with what you already have, not forcing your system to produce more -but she can wield her meager supply better than anyone else. _Best_ is as close to perfection as anything will ever be. Sakura will push past even that until she is satisfied. 

**.**

**.**

**.**

Uchiha Sasuke is better than her in Ninjutsu. (It means nothing.)

She despises him. (It means everything.)

In the future, they will likely match evenly in Genjutsu, his clan is known for having skill in it and she is a Genjutsu-type with _perfect_ control, but since he hasn't yet activated his Sharingan, she competes over the top ranking with Ino.

Mind games and manipulation are Ino's forte, they are what fighting is to Sakura, but then Ino decides to act half-in-love with Uchiha because he has fan-girls and -boys and she wants to have _fun_ and win.

It's disgusting to witness and Sakura's stomach rolls uncomfortably when she bats delicate eyelashes at the boy. What's worse is the stupid boy falls for it. He believes all the practicing honey-traps.

Yes, he has a pretty face, but no female in the shinobi tract is going to give up on that for some tree in the forest, 美人薄命* _boy_. They want his money, power, and knowledge, not him.

An arrogant, self-important little boy who blushes softly and smiles sweetly. Annoying and useless.

Except he's not. He's not and she hates it. She tries to ignore him because he's barely worth her attention, but he's always looking at her, just _staring_ like some idiot.

It's so aggravating.

Then, one day, Uchiha arrives with a blank face, demeanor, and behavior. She barely notices, certainly doesn’t _care_ , but- it’s strange.

The whispers are louder (she ignores them harder) and the civilian-born swarm him more than ever, but whereas before he would shyly decline offers and requests, now he glares coldly. Ino gives him a calculating look and drops the act.

He is practically a comatose statue during their Taijutsu match. Sakura huffs and knocks him to the ground with a brutal move- he barely reacts -because he should be paying attention to her.

"Thank you for the match, Haruno-san."

She sneers. "If you want to call that a match. What even _was_ that, Uchiha?" she spat out.

He flinches minutely. She pauses at the reaction. He's a boy, but- he's also an exception, like her father, and maybe it's that thought that has her acknowledge him.

"Give me a challenge next time... Sasuke," she said, graciously.

His inky eyes flare with some life again.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Sakura finds blood between her thighs- Ino slips her a pack of chocolate in class because she just _knows_ -the year that Mother's stomach grows round with child. She wonders what color her sister's hair will be as Mother gets her fitted for clothing to accommodate the growing roundness of her chest and sloping curve in her hips. There is a new weight to the gazes that linger on her body.

Assessing and hungry. Like she is something to be devoured. Like they can consume her. Like they _want_ her.

She would be upset about it- _t_ _hey_ think they could have _her_? -but it's just so pathetic.

**As. _If_.**

Wanting looks become angry, wanting looks because they know the thought of their desire makes her laugh callously. 

Mother has her paper canvases and colorful paints, Sakura uses a different type of medium and only needs one color: red. 

**.**

**.**

**.**

Sakura graduates first in Taijutsu- easily edging out the timid Hyuuga -receives second in Genjutsu- Ino smirks with first -and seethes over her Ninjutsu score. The final exam is almost too easy and the metal forehead protector is heavy in her hands.

Before going home to celebrate, Father is back and Mother has a gift from Grandmother for her, she presses a bouquet of purple daises (purple: success; daisy: celebration for a dear friend) into Ino's hand and Ino places a crown of red daises (red: feminine energy, love) woven together onto her brow.

"This better not be poisoned," Sakura said, flatly.

Ino gives an airy smile and waves her hand. "This one, no."

She rolled her eyes but smiled.

Later, Sakura will discover a thin, pliable wire, sharp enough to slice clean through her fingers acting as a base for the flower stems. There is no poison, just as Ino promised. 

**.**

**.**

**.**

The last day at the Academy is not spent reminiscing. Sakura is eager, more than ready for change. She slips into the seat beside Ino and glances around the room with one thought only, "Good riddance."

Team placements are announced and her team's sensei arrives right on time. She waves lazily to Ino who already knew what her team formation would be and walks up the stairs to the roof with her teammates on either side of her. The boys are both quiet, though Uzumaki practically vibrates with energy. Once at the top, they sit before their standing sensei.

No-last-name Yamato-sensei stares silently at them for a long time. Uzumaki fidgets. Sasuke glares and jams a bony elbow into Uzumaki's stomach before he can do more than open his mouth. Sakura meets wooden eyes boldly and manages to smile in an unpleasant way without baring her teeth, lips hiking up as the minutes pass by.

“I am Yamato. I like flowers,” he finally said, stoically. 

Naruto barks out an obnoxious laugh that quickly fades when Yamato-sensei's expression does not change. Sakura carefully pushes some of her long- she started growing it out after hearing stories about powerful shinobi with hair down to their knees -pink hair behind a shoulder.

"Haruno Sakura. I dislike weakness and losing."

The boys' introductions after hers go in one ear and out the other.

“Do you have a favorite flower, Yamato-sensei?” she asked, suddenly, possibly interrupting one of the boys mid-sentence. 

Yamato-sensei's attention snaps to her and answers like he's giving a report, “Foxglove.” 

Foxglove: a poisonous plant commonly associated with insincerity, but Ino told her the plant had dual properties of healing and hurting. 

"I've always been partial to kunzea," she said, perhaps a bit too intently.

Still, the message is delivered, though she can't tell if he understands it yet. He gives them all one more look over before telling them where to meet for the final Genin test tomorrow. Then, he walks them downstairs and disappears without a trace-

just

like

the

_predators_.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Team 7 passes their test covered in bruises and with at least one sprain each. Yamato-sensei’s lips twitch into something resembling a smile and Sakura feels hunger prickle in her stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * "beautiful person, thin life" - essentially means beauty fades. tree in the forest is basically saying he's common, he's a tree in a forest of trees.
> 
> [1] it's not mentioned in the story because i can't see sakura caring or paying enough attention to her classmates, but while the girls go to kunioichi classes, the boys do "civilian" classes where they learn civilian culture and etiquette. the shinobi teachers do not care who is beating the crap out of who (aside from clan politics) as long as they are listening and following the rules. 
> 
> [2] grandmother's "cubs" are her students or helpers.
> 
> [3] the predators and grandmother warned sakura and she's listening. i just find it funny that both grandmother and the "wolves" are helping the little girl in red.
> 
> [4] we got some addams family type shit going on with ino and sakura, haha. they have baby crushes on each other, but i'm trying to portray them as actual friend-rivals who will push and match each other in different ways.
> 
> [5] my post-massacre sasuke still retains some of his manners (i'm saying he actually had some to begin with) so he uses last names and honorifics, it's only after time passes that he starts dropping honorifics. 
> 
> [6] sakura knows proper etiquette, she just doesn't care, hence telling ino to call her sakura (that was her attempting to be polite, this girl- ) and calling sasuke by his first name without his permission. sakura only knows the names of about 5 of her classmates, if she calls you by your name, whether it's the first or last one, she is acknowledging you. 
> 
> [7] okay, last time i saw hibari in her, now i see some bakugou. i kept wanting to write swear words lol. 
> 
> [8] does sakura not like sasuke bc of ino? does sakura not like sasuke bc she has a baby crush on him and doesn't realize it? does sasuke have a big ol' crush on sakura? yes to all.
> 
> [9] yamato-sensei is not going to be a completely well-adjusted boy/man here, loool. personality will be zapped into dry wood.
> 
> [10] kunzea are flowers that mean power. sakura is slyly telling yamato (and the boys if they care to figure it out) what she likes and her "dream."
> 
> your comments encourage me to continue writing, pls lmk your thoughts on the chapter! it could be a paragraph of praise, quoting what you liked, a sentence of keyboard-smashing, or constructive criticism, any or all of those, i love reading your feedback!

**Author's Note:**

> Please be respectful and don't post or translate my work as your own. Go to my profile for more details and information on ✨writing updates✨


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